Page 79 of The Wrong Move

From the momentwe left Rome, Giana wanted to show me around her coastal village. After Giana made a call about her villa and paid some bills, we walked hand in hand along the cobbled streets, finding the best espresso and admiring the architecture of churches and the way the village was built into a limestone mountain. We eat lunch at a sidewalk café. A soft breeze picks up her hair, stirring the strands around her cheeks, but it’s not strong enough to cool my body from the balmy air that hangs heavy in the atmosphere. Giana leads me along a path, down two hundred and fifty freaking stairs to get to the beach.

Blue and white umbrellas are positioned in lines from the ocean to the stairs, each with its own beach chair. It’s not a large beach, but it is divided at each end by rocks on the limestone cliff face.

Sweat is dripping from my brow, and all I can think about is diving into the sea. It’s a turquoise blue, the water lapping the shore. We walk along the water’s edge with our shoes in our hands as the gulls caw to each other over our heads.

“Are we swimming?”

She gestures toward the rocks ahead, blocking the beach at high tide. “Follow me,” she says, climbing to scramble over the boulders.

I follow her, keeping close in case she slips, and walk sideways, then slide, scale some more, and descend onto a ledge where the ocean rushes in like a river.

It’s a small cave-like pool.

I follow her along the stony ledge. She drops her sandals.

“You wouldn’t.”

She grins and pulls off her dress.

“Stop it.”

She jumps in.

“Giana!” I shout. “Fuck.” I drop my sneakers, rip off my shirt, and jump.

I come to the surface and look around.

Giana is wading, laughing. “Your face,” she says, amused.

I swim over to her. “You scared the fuck out of me.” I pull her close and want to spank her sexy ass.

“Scared I’d drown?” She pulls a face. “Byron, you need to live. Take a risk.”

“I take risks every day, but not like this.” Calculated risks beneficial to my game or to beat my opponent, sure. “How do you know it’s safe? There could be a rip or some territorial sea beast in the water.”

She tilts her head back as she laughs. “Like what?”

“A crocodile,” I shoot back.

“We’re a long way from Australia.” She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. “Make love to me.”

Love.

“Here?” I was thinking of soft, silky sheets and being surrounded by luxury when we made love.

Giana lets go and paddles toward the back. I follow her to where the water laps against some stony man-made steps.

“This is a thing?”

“Yes. Especially at night, during low tide. It’s called Lover’s Cove.” She sits on the step and spreads her legs. “Allow me to initiate you.” It’s the first initiation in my life that I’m excited to be part of.

Giana spins and climbs the final step, strips out of her bra and thong, and lies on the stony ledge. “It looks painful, Gi. I don’t want it to cut you up.”

“Byron,” she says firmly. “I won’t feel anything if it’s love. All I want is to feel you inside me.”

I rid the last of my clothing, fall to my knees, and settle between her thighs. I tuck my elbows near her shoulders and shove my hands under her to try and protect her skin, then lean down and kiss her tenderly. Her lips move with mine, slowly at first, speeding up as our tongues entwine and taste. “I want this to be my favorite memory of Italy,” she whispers as her legs wrap around me, her heels digging into my hamstrings.

I kiss her cheek, ear, jaw, and forehead, then move to the other ear and whisper, “I love you, Gi.” I feel her soften beneath me. I keep kissing her cheek and face, then find her lips again. While she doesn’t utter the words, her mouth tells me everything I need to know. She kisses and devours me and, with one hand, guides my erection to her opening. I push in slowly, checking she is okay and not sore because we have fucked hard over the last twelve hours. I withdraw slowly, then slide in farther, and she gasps as her pussy adjusts.

---